The End Is The Beginning, The Beginning Is The End
by CandyAppleBlack
Summary: A look into Marty's past through entries in his private journal


Disclaimer: This Fic is another separate plot Fic. A original idea that has no link to my other Fics. However, I am using the character of Jake, Marty's maker, that I created for my Fic "The Haunting" (which is almost done by the way :P) So, yeah enjoy!  
  
Vampire High  
THE END IS THE BEGINNING, THE BEGINNING IS THE END  
  
~Is it bright where you are   
Have the people changed   
Does it make you happy you're so strange   
And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame   
You can watch the world devoured in it's pain  
(The End Is The Beginning, The Beginning Is The End- Smashing Pumpkins)~   
  
  
  
It was Sunday night and the vampires busily giving their area's a tidy. Marty was kneeling in front of his giant Hope Chest that contained all of his belongings that weren't his clothes. He just stared at the chest blankly. His entire existance was stored in this box, his memories, his pain, his joys. Karl walked up to him.  
  
"Ya know," Karl started, "you could start by opening it. That usually helps." hi finished trying to be helpful.  
  
"Thank you Karl." Marty replied unamused, "I was waiting for instructions." His voice was stained with blatant sarcasm.  
  
Drew had observed the interaction. He shook his head at Karl and let out small laugh.  
  
"What's so funny Drew?", Karl said not quite sure where Drew was finding humor.  
  
"Oh nothing. It's just for most of us, a box like that contains our entire immortal lives. The majority of it being shattered hopes and broken dreams."   
  
Marty looked up at Drew and gave a little smile. "You hit the nail on the head D-Man. Just a bunch of painful memories living in, and building a little community in the box."   
  
Drew laughed, " Yeah, the 'Isle's of Old Pain and Misery'!"  
  
  
As they laughed, Dr. Murdoch came in to inform the vampires of meal time. They all rushed out. Marty on the other hand, went, got his meal and returned to his coffin. he put his allotment in his coat pocket and rubbed his hands together. He then proceeded to lift his box via his gift. It hovered in front of him as he walked to the balcony. The other's looked at him oddly.  
  
Essie stood up, "What on earth are you doing?"  
  
Marty turned to her, "Well Essie, this is a box of my personal belongings and I'd like to go through it PRIVATLY. Alright?" He walked away from them and up the balcony.  
  
Essie just shook her head, "The boy's missing something in his head I swear to god."  
Merrill disagreed, "No he doesn't. He want's to keep his private life private. His past is really none of our business."  
  
Essie just shrugged her shoulders, "Whatever, the boy's still weird." at that they all went back to eating.  
  
  
Marty was on the balcony. He sat down in a chair and let out a sigh, "Now or never." he spoke to himself. He opened the lid of his chest. It was full of old photos, books, childhood toys, and other things he'd collected over the years. He picked up a ratty old teddy bear for when he was a baby. he gave it a hug a set it down. He removed other toys and discovered his baby blanket folded near the bottom of the box. It was a knitted light blue blanket that had probably seen better days. He lifted it up but instead of it being light as blankets should be, it was heavy. He saw that it was being used to wrap something and began to unwrap wrap. When he pulled out the object he was puzzled at first, until he remembered what it was. In his hands he was holding a journal, a leather bound journal.   
  
"My god, it's my..my journal." he said quietly.   
  
He had forgotten about it. He'd started writing it a week after he was made. He had wrote in it everyday years. Every intricate detail of his immortal life was written in the pages. Well, most of his immortal life. He stopped writing in the late 1950's. He sat back with the book in his hands and just looked at it. He vividly remembered the day he got it, or rather the night. It was on his second night of being a vampire, which for all rights and purposes was his first. He spent most of his actual first night in pain and in and out of consciousness, so it didn't count. He had gotten the journal from his maker on that night. His maker's name was Jake and Jake was, in actually, his biological brother. Jake had always been unhealthy mentally but being made a vampire just drove him over the edge. But never the less he remembered that night vividly. He closed his eyes.  
  
  
~Flashback to 1832~  
  
The room was cold and practically empty. It, in all actuality was a Moslem. It contained nothing more than some candle's and two chairs that were rendered useless, as they had no longer become needed in the nights activities.   
  
"Aren't you hungry Marty?" the vampire asked the younger vampire that he'd recently made, "It's good." Sitting in a coroner on the floor, the young vampire turned his head to look away.   
  
"No Jacob." the other vampire, Marty, replied in disgust. "I will never be that hungry."  
  
"You will be." Jacob said as he lifted his head. His face and teeth were stained with blood, while a hideously twisted grin quickly spread across his face. A sick laugh, almost infantile, crawled up his throat. "Mmmm," he giggled, "succulent babies!"  
  
Marty looked down at his feet, not wanting to make any kind if contact with the monster who's face was smothered with the blood and innards of infant children. That, and the half a dozen partially eaten fetal bodies scattered in various places of the empty room.   
  
Jake walked over to his brother, carrying a disemboweled baby boy by it's leg. " Go on, have some. Sharing is good."   
  
"I said no! Leave me be. I will not partake in your distruction of life." Marty spoke, trying to fight the tears that were nearing.  
  
"But you are," Jake grinned playfully, "you're here now. I made you like me."  
  
Marty stepped back and sputtered in disgust, "I will never be like you! If I am anything, I am a dead, walking shell of what I used to be.....of what you took from me. I hope you kiss the sun." Marty turned and left the room.  
  
"Suit yourself, more for me!" Jake snickered. He then walked back to his feast lifting the infant in his hand to his mouth, biting off it's toe's, eating them like grapes.  
  
Marty had gone to sit outside. He was looking up at the moon. It's light made the few tears that rolled down his face glisten like diamonds. Just as he was feeling at peace, it was broken by the sounds of Jake who appeared behind him.  
  
"What do you want now? You took all I had from me what could I possibly have left to give you?" Marty growled at Jake.  
  
Jake just smiled, "I have something to give you." he handed Marty a book of empty pages bound in leather some ink and a feather quill. "It a place for your brain and fingers to talk."  
  
Marty took the gifts from Jake and Jake skipped off. Marty then opened the book to it's first blank page. He looked at it briefly then dipped the quill in the ink and started to write.   
  
  
~End flashback~  
  
Marty opened his eyes. He looked down at the book on his lap, the only good thing that ever came from Jake. He opened it up and turned to the first entry. He then took a deep breath, leaned back and began to read.  
  
"1832/16, May, evening- Hello, I am Marty Strickland. I am a male of eighteen. I am a vampire......"  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED  
End Note: I hope you all like this so far. PLEASE review, your opinion's mean so much to me:P 


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